


Welcome to the Department, Ichabod Crane

by donutsweeper



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Gen, Jealousy, Prank Wars, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Devon Jones was a live and let live kind of guy, especially when it came to the department's new consultant, Ichabod Crane.  His partner however?  Well, Luke Morales thought differently.  Set shortly after Luke receives the call from Oxford affirming Ichabod's identity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Department, Ichabod Crane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laughingacademy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingacademy/gifts).



> A Yuletide gift for laughing academy. Betaed by the wonderful tielan.

Jones watched Morales watch Crane.

Crane was completely oblivious, but Morales was practically vibrating with pent up... whatever. Jealously? Anger? Annoyance? Jones really had no idea. The captain had vetted the guy and that, as far as Jones was concerned, was that. But it wasn't good enough for Morales. Morales claimed it was because Crane had been hauled in and questioned about Corbin's murder but Jones wasn't an idiot. He had eyes. He could see how Crane had become all but superglued to Mills' side and they all knew Crane had to be tied to the reason Mills had decided against ditching Sleepy Hollow for Quantico. And that was after Morales, despite pulling out all his so-called charms, hadn't been able to manage it, no matter how hard he'd tried.

All in all, it wasn't surprising that Morales wasn't taking Crane's consulting role with the department all that well. However, partner or no, Jones wasn't going to allow Morales drag him into something that might lead to them getting in trouble with the captain. Irving had taken the razzing with the headless horseman sign just fine, but the man seemed like he'd be a bastard if crossed and Jones made it a habit of not pissing off the boss if he could help it. 

"He's just sitting there," Morales muttered. 

"So?" Jones countered, because... really? So what?

"So, Crane's just sitting there being completely useless while Abbie's working her ass off doing all the paperwork and everything. What kind of partnership is that?"

Jones looked down at the stack of paperwork he'd spent the morning doing and then over at the as yet untouched paperwork on Morales' desk and sighed. "Kind of like ours?" he ventured.

Morales broke away from staring at Crane for look enough to turn and look Jones in the face and actually almost looked sheepish for a moment. "I did the filing and the witness statements yesterday."

"True. But, come on, Luke. Look, Crane is here and the Captain wants him here so why are you getting yourself worked up about it?" Other than for the obvious reason, the fact that while Mills may be technically a _former_ fiancé that didn't necessarily make all those feelings between them former and the result was Morales was _not_ happy about the status quo.

"You're right."

Okay, that was unexpected. And suspicious. Jones tilted his head, getting a good look at his partner. "I'm right?" he asked, trying to find out what Morales really meant because in no way was he just going to let this go.

"You are," Morales said, smiling. Jones was very familiar with that smile but having it directed at him was a little disconcerting. There was a decent amount of viciousness behind that particular expression and it made him nervous.

"Okay, out with it. What are you planning?"

"Captain says to accept Crane and welcome him to the department with open arms, right?"

"Right..." Jones stretched the word out, nervously waiting to see where it might lead.

"Well, what better way to welcome him to the Westchester County Police Department and to show him how much we want him here than by treating him how we treat all new arrivals here?"

Morales' grin must have been catching because Jones couldn't help his own from spreading across his face. "Prank war?" he offered.

"Oh, yeah!" Morales started rubbing his hand together in anticipation. 

Now the trick to a good prank war was making sure you didn't cross the line between prank and offense because no one in their right mind wanted to be the reason for sending the entire department to mandatory sexual harassment training or endless lectures on appropriate behavior in the workplace. People tended to have really long memories when it came to getting them stuck in all day seminars on what should be their day off and payback for such things was usually brutal.

Morales started off small, probably wanting to test the waters or keep it under Irving's radar or something; Jones didn't know and purposely didn't ask. Plausible deniability was a wonderful thing, after all. Step one was Morales sneaking over to Mills' desk after Mills and Crane had stepped away for a bit and pouring something into the coffee cup that Crane had left behind.

Jones had no idea what Morales had laced the drink with, he was assuming (hoping) it was either sugar or salt or something basic like that but Morales was practically cackling with glee as he made his way back to their desks. "Let's see what he thinks of that," he whispered as he plopped down in his chair.

Then, of course, Morales was worse than useless as he basically ignored all the paperwork they were supposed to be finishing and kept turning to keep an eye on the doctored cup. All to no avail because while Crane and Mills returned eventually, they were in deep discussion about something and spent the next ten minutes with their heads bent together over some huge, ancient book they'd unearthed from somewhere and completely ignored their rapidly cooling coffees.

Eventually Crane did pick up his cup. Jones had to resist the urge to thank the man upstairs for that because the tension rolling across the desk was getting him riled in anticipation and wasn't even the prankster. 

"Come on," Morales muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for Jones to hear him. 

Crane gestured with the cup twice, using it to emphasize whatever point he was making to Mills, and took a sip.... and continued talking, like nothing unusual had happened, as if it tasted perfectly normal. Morales hissed something that might have been a curse as they both watched Crane take another sip, glance briefly at the coffee but continue to drink as Mills grabbed her coat before they headed out together.

Morales flew to his feet, throwing his arms in the air. "What the hell! Really, what the hell?" He was practically shouting and getting some odd looks from the other detectives around.

"Luke!" Jones hissed. "Calm down, you're causing a scene." He walked around the desks and grabbed Luke by the arm, shoving him back into his chair. "Come on, man, sit."

Morales plunked himself down with an annoyed, ungraceful huff and said, "No, seriously, tell me, what the hell was that?"

"A guy drinking his coffee?" Luke joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Does he not have taste buds or something? How the hell didn't he notice his coffee'd been doctored?"

"Maybe you didn't do enough to it?"

"I added three packets of that stevia crap Wendy keeps in the break room. You know, that not-sugar, not-fake all natural sweetener stuff? It's like five times as sweet as sugar or something, there's no way he couldn't taste that." 

Jones had to give Morales that. He'd used a packet of that stuff when by accident once and had nearly spit his coffee out, it'd been so sweet. Three packets in one cup of coffee? Yeah, there wasn't a chance Crane hadn't been able to taste the difference. But he hadn't reacted. Why? How?

Things got a little hectic in the office after that, what with the CDC breathing down their necks and the murders and all and Jones had almost convinced himself that Morales was going to man up and actually let things go when he walked in a little early one day and found Morales with a screwdriver in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Jones immediately said, "Don't tell me, I don't want to know," and turned and left. He had fifteen minutes before his shift started and he was pretty sure he was going to need more coffee to face whatever today was going to bring him. A lot more coffee. And possibly a donut.

Fortified with a large coffee, two donuts and a cruller - his momma didn't raise no fools - he sauntered back in with two minutes to spare to find Morales in stalker-mode, sitting at his desk but sneaking glances in the direction of Mills'. Sighing, Devon began weeding through his interdepartmental emails while nibbling on his first donut and waiting for the fireworks to start.

He'd only waded through about half of it when Irving and Mills walked into the room with Crane in tow. They conferred in the doorway for a moment before Irving went on his way and Crane and Mills entered. "I'll get the coffee this morning," Mills said as she headed to the machine while Crane stopped to pull off that ridiculous coat of his.

"Not going to comment about him still following her around?" Jones quietly asked Morales.

"Nope, not today." Morales had that worrisome smile going again and Jones prepared himself for the worst, making sure both his coffee and donuts were placed in the center out his desk, well out of the way of any possible fallout from whatever Morales had set into motion.

Mills was returning to her desk with two cups of coffee when Crane went to sit down on what was, in theory, her visitor's chair, but had basically become solely his since he'd started to consult for the department. Except, instead of sitting contently and chattering with her as she worked, the entire chair collapsed under him, sending him tumbling to the ground in what looked like a painful flailing of limbs.

"What did you do?" Mills asked him as she rushed over. Practically everyone in the office reacted when they heard the crash but mostly they all stayed back and watched while she slapped the coffees onto the desk and grabbed one of Crane's thrashing arms pulled him to his feet. She didn't sound upset though, if Jones had to guess her tone was more indulgent than anything else.

"Nothing!" Crane obviously wasn't hurt; the fall didn't even seem to have wounded his pride either. As affable as always he just gestured to the chair and added, "I merely sat down. The chair came apart all on its own."

"Uh-huh," she replied, but her eyes swept across the room, stopping when she got to Morales. Since Morales was turned away from him Jones couldn't see his face but he could tell Mills saw something suspicious there by the way her eyes narrowed and lips pursed. If Crane hadn't chosen that moment to tug on her arm Jones was pretty sure she would have made the connection between the broken chair and Morales.

"I am fine, lieutenant," he said, his voice low.

"Not the point, Crane," she replied, sounding pissed as hell. Okay, maybe she'd figured it out and Crane had, for some reason, stopped her before she'd had a chance to confront Morales about it.

"Lieutenant." Crane picked up their coffees off the desk and held one out to her. "Perhaps now would be a good time to instigate that line of inquiry your captain requested of us?"

"Yeah, fine." She grabbed her coat off the back of her chair and his off the floor where it had fallen before snagging the offered coffee out of his hand. "I'm sure this," she gestured to the collapsed chair, "will have been taken care of by the time we get back."

"I am sure you are correct." He didn't sound frustrated or annoyed like she did though. Resigned, maybe, but not angry. Mills, however, continued to glare at Morales until they were through the doorway and out of sight.

"Does _nothing_ get to that guy?" Morales turned to face him as he spoke and Jones could see he looked pissed as hell.

"Maybe he's just an easygoing guy?" Jones offered, trying to placate Morales a little and ease some of the tension that was practically rolling off the other man.

"No one is that easygoing," Morales countered. "No one."

Shrugging, Jones didn't try to deny it, he just said, "Well, unless you want to risk the captain hearing about it and coming after you maybe you better fix that chair before they come back." Then he turned back to his computer and pulled his coffee and donut closer, letting Morales know he considered the matter closed and he wasn't going to spend the rest of the morning fielding frustrated complaints about Crane and Mills.

Morales was not giving up though, oh no. Three days later there was Winnie-the-Wino, the overly handsy but completely harmless town drunk, who glomped on to Crane and insisted on regaling him with his life story. Something which, by either some unfathomable sense of decorum or a complete lack of self-preservation, Crane didn't seem to mind. In fact, much to Morales' dismay, Crane had Winnie quieted and calmed and making noises about getting off the street and into a twelve step program within an hour of meeting him. Jones had to admit, even he boggled at that.

"He didn't even get upset when his shoes got puked on." Morales looked stunned. "And he got Winnie to hand over his bottle. No one's ever managed that. What the hell. Just. What. The. Hell."

Jones simply held up his hands. "Luke, maybe it's time to let it go. He survived you siccing Winnie on him, he didn't seem to care about the chair and somehow didn't even notice what you did to his coffee. I don't think you're going to get him."

"No one is that easygoing all the time, Dev. No one," Morales said through clenched teeth.

"Look, you don't have to like him, but you better be careful. You go too far and you're going to piss off Irving and then where's that going to leave you?"

"I'll be fine," Morales muttered as he pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the contacts. "Don't you worry, it'll be just fine."

Jones was starting to get worried. Considering that tone was anything other than comforting. But, as long as Morales didn't cross the line, Devon decided to let his partner have his fun. If need be he could always warn Mills or the captain or something, but only if things escalated. A little prank here and there was mostly harmless, right? Right?

Sighing, he went off to fetch a refill for his coffee, trying to think of ways to make sure Morales didn't cross the line and get them all in trouble. He was beginning to think this was all going to end in disaster.

Morales' next pranking attempts were no more successful. The string of sexually explicit phone calls made by rather dubious acquaintance while Mills was away from the desk were, when Crane actually answered the phone, met with bemused confusion, and didn't fluster or upset him in the least. Then instead of being upset, Crane laughed when the pep club 'accidently' sprayed him with water after he walked near their car wash fundraiser and praised them for their 'diligence in the raising of necessary funds for their endeavors'.

Jones was starting to consider putting in for a transfer.

Then came the day Crane left his coat behind and Morales somehow managed to fill its pockets with all kinds of different sex toys: a ton of different kinds of condoms, vibrators, dildos, cock rings and a lot of other things Jones didn't recognize and had to admit he was happy enough to be in the dark about. Word of the coat's contents spread around the entire office and by the time Crane and Mills returned to the office all sorts of extra people were standing about, waiting to get a look at how Crane would respond when he found all that stuff.

They noticed his coat had been messed with right away. Mills kind of grabbed at Crane's arm and when he looked at her she gestured at the coat with her chin but he just tilted his head and smiled and walked over and carefully started rooting through the pockets and... didn't get mad. 

Everyone milling around wandered off, probably heading back to their own desks when Crane showed no reaction other than to begin reading the packaging on the condoms while Morales looked more annoyed than Jones had ever seen him. Mills, meanwhile, looked like she was about debating between killing someone and trying to protect Crane from the horrors of the world.

"Oh, I see, this is a prophylactic?" he asked eventually.

"Yeah." Mills somehow didn't sound either embarrassed or annoyed to Jones, just giving a matter-of-fact explanation of what he was examining.

Crane, meanwhile, began spreading out all the items in his coat one by one over Mills' desk as he pulled them of out the various places they'd been squirreled away in his coat. "I had no idea prophylactics came in so many shapes and sizes these days. Or came packaged in such a colorful manner. And this device? Is this for either pleasuring one's self or one's companion? Well, this certainly could have-"

"Crane!" Mills grabbed the dildo out of his hand. "Let's get all this into a bag, okay? You can look at it later if you like."

"If you insist," Crane replied, distracted by everything he was unearthing from the depths of his coat.

"I do." Mills pulled the liner out of her trash bin and swept all the items into it. "Come on, we still need to see if we can track down that last sigil before sunset."

"Yes, yes, of course." Instead of heading out though, Crane turned and stepped in their direction. "Thank you for the gifts, Detective Morales. These, along with your other efforts to make me feel welcome within the constabulary, are greatly appreciated. Good day, detectives," he said, nodded at both of them before turning to follow Mills out the door.

Morales just stood there, his mouth opening and closing but not saying anything, for a good five minutes. Jones had to bite his lip to stop himself from bursting out laughing. Instead of getting pranked himself, somehow Crane had managed to turn it around and pull one over on Morales instead. Credit where credit was due, that was a special kind of talent. Maybe Crane was going to fit in just fine here after all.


End file.
